
Oh! what you would know,
If you were to be a broken toy.
You would have had years of excitement
Been used to being played and toyed with
Being first in line, most of the time
The many conversations and travels
Your human friend would have told you.
Despite age and broken parts
You will always be remembered in the human’s heart
You will maybe, if you are lucky
Be saved for another generation
To see and experience.
Broken Toys can become broken from being touched
If you have been touched, you were special once
If you was special, then perhaps you were loved.
So being broken may not be so bad after all.
Ah, to be a broken toy…
That’s so beautiful and sweet. I wish I had my first bear. Mid 40’s and I still remember him.
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I remember all mine too.
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Lovely poem dear.
❤️✌️
BY FOR NOW
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